


Standing guard in an old bookshop

by Thelexicographer



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexuality Spectrum, BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Footnotes, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Multi, Queerplatonic Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), all the footnotes, newt loves cluedo, nothing graphic, or at least he's trying, vigilante crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:29:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25527472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thelexicographer/pseuds/Thelexicographer
Summary: A chat with Anathema and Newt about the gender and sexual interests of angels and demons leads to another conversation later on. A conversation where Crowley reveals, once again, that he is really quite a good (if reckless) person, and Aziraphale decides that protecting local demons can absolutely form part of a principality's purview.Some references to past attempted sexual assault and harrassment but I promise it isn't graphic, and everyone got their just deserts. Not much plot to speak of, just some of our favourite characters having some lighthearted and occasionally more heavyhearted chats.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! *waves* this is my first fic here so constructive criticism is very much appreciated. This first chapter is just a bit of banter, there is some talk about sex and consent but it's pretty clinical. Chapter 2 is little bit more heavy (not that heavy, but I'd rather over-warn than under-warn just in case). 
> 
> I enjoy fics about Aziraphale and Crowley as a romantic couple, but for this one I thought I'd experiment with making it more queerplatonic and closer to how they were in the book. So with that in mind, here we go!

‘So…you two can just…switch? Like, snap your fingers and boom, it’s all changed?’ Newt asked, wide-eyed. Anathema nudged him.

‘Uh, I don’t think that’s very polite, Newt.’

‘Right. Right. Sorry.’ He said, blushing, and sat back into the comfy armchair. It was a curious kind of friendship that had blossomed between the four of them, based in equal parts on Anathema’s desire to get her hands on Aziraphale’s books of the occult (the ones he deemed H-rated, of course)[1], and Crowley’s desire to have someone new to make fun of (Newt) and an associate to help him with such efforts (Anathema). It also meant that Aziraphale could enjoy a home-cooked meal from time to time[2], and more varied company than his demon alone.[3] This particular evening had seen the consumption of the Pulsifer family lasagne recipe, passed down at least two generations, and now the four adult-shaped beings were relaxing in the bookshop, sharing a bottle of wine and the remaining nibbles.[4]

Newt’s question had actually come from an innocent enough conversation about Crowley’s stint as Warlock’s female-presenting nanny, and would have been easily left alone if Crowley hadn’t decided to have some fun. He sat up, smirking, and said to the increasingly red-faced witchfinder private:

‘Yep. Penises everywhere. All the sizes you like. Penises for fingers. Vulvas like nobody’s business.’

‘Oh honestly, Crowley.’ Aziraphale shot him a look. ‘It’s really not that exciting, Newton. We’re sexless, so we usually don’t bother with, ah, extras, except for show. For example, when public baths were more _de rigeur_ one would have to make sure that the-’

‘Carpet matched the drapes-’ Crowley chimed in.

‘The _genitalia_ matched the _presented gender._ So as not to draw unnecessary attention. _’_ Aziraphale continued over the top of his erstwhile adversary. ‘So yes, it doesn’t take much to change, if we wanted to, but honestly in recent years personal space has become much more the thing so it hasn’t really been a concern.’

‘Right.’ Newt nodded, grateful to the angel for preventing the conversation from derailing completely. ‘Ah, interesting. I suppose. Not that I’m thinking about your… _you know_ but…interesting from a scientific perspective, right, Anathema?’ he glanced desperately at his girlfriend, who was now the one looking curiously at the two occul-thereal beings.

‘So why do you both present as male, then?’ She asked.

‘S’easier.’ Crowley said, with a shrug. ‘I’ve been known to change more. Mr. Small Business here has been settled in town for long enough that he couldn’t change without raising some eyebrows. But either way, until very recently being a man was the easiest way to get around without people trying to stop you or ask what you were doing, so except for specialist missions that's what most of us did. Still is easier, sometimes. Learnt that the first time I tried to take the Bentley to a human garage.[5]’

‘Yes. I’ve fallen rather into the habit.’ Aziraphale admitted. ‘But it’s only…well it’s hard to explain to humans, you all seem to attach so much importance to it all, sex and gender and everything. Even when you want to talk about how _not_ important it should be, it becomes important. For us it’s more like…like…’

‘Ducks.’ Crowley offered. ‘Water on ducks. You can put water on ducks but…but it doesn’t stick. It’s on the surface. Slides off. Unless they’re trying to keep it on, maybe. Can’t see why they would though. Never seen them do it so maybe they don’t, but even if they _did_ , that’s what it would be like.’ He concluded, with a decisive wave of his wineglass. The wine in it nearly attempted a leap out of the glass, but he gave it a look and it ultimately decided to stay where it was. Anathema nodded, looking slightly confused.

‘It’s basically not something that really comes into play in our identities, if that makes it clearer.’ Aziraphale added. ‘We don’t have it, so it’s not a consideration. In Enochian there’s only one gender.’

‘Right.’ Newt said. ‘So… No, never mind.’

‘You want to know if we have sex.’ Crowley drawled, leaning back on his chair with a slow smile.

‘I don’t _want_ to know…’

‘ _I_ do, seeing as we’re talking about it anyway.’ Anathema decided, suddenly. ‘Why not, if you guys don’t mind? It’s interesting from a scientific perspective, like Newt said.’

‘I don’t mind.’ Crowley said, cheerfully. ‘Quite nice to talk to humans about this stuff, actually. You have such delightful reactions.’

‘No different to the reaction Aziraphale had to Newt’s lasagne.’ Anathema pointed out.

‘True, it’s a fair exchange. So, Angel. Tell us about your sex life.’ Crowley demanded with a regal flick of his wrist. Aziraphale wrung his hands.

‘Well _really_ it’s one thing to discuss it in the _general_ sense-’

‘Oh believe me, I’m only asking in the general sense.’ Anathema said quickly. Newt nodded in agreement.

‘No details necessary.’ He added. ‘Can’t speak for your _husband_ , of course-’ the word ‘husband’ made Crowley choke on his wine, an effect which was enjoyed by all.

‘Urgh.’ He said. ‘No, go on angel. General it is, I won’t force you.’ Aziraphale relaxed.

‘Right. Well in the general sense, yes, angels and demons can have sex. It’s unusual for angels-’

‘*cough* Nephilim *cough*’

‘Yes, _alright_ there was a bit of a confusion early on where some watchers fell in love with their humans, but remember at that point humans were living for hundreds of years at a time and there were so few of them...it was only to be expected that _some_ of them would form close bonds with each other. But for the most part angels don’t bother. Partly due to a lack of interest, again, _sexless,_ but also… well, it’s a bit _icky_.’ Crowley’s eyebrows made a speedy dash to his forehead.

‘ _Icky._ I have never heard you use that word in 6020 years.’

‘It’s the right word, though.’ Aziraphale countered, and Crowley shrugged in acquiescence.

‘I suppose so.’

‘How is it icky?’ Anathema asked. ‘Do you not find humans attractive?’

‘There’s that, I suppose, although some of you can be quite beautiful, in a human sort of way.’

‘Not you two, though.’ Crowley added, which earned him a direct hit on the nose with a salted cashew. 

‘It’s more that humans have such short lifespans, and are so ignorant of the wider world and its history and…and the big picture, that it seems a bit…well, what’s the word?’

‘It’s a bit like having sex with a drunk person. Or an animal.’ Crowley said, bluntly. ‘Like, humans are by definition incapable of fully understanding who and what we are, or defending themselves against it, so using our powers to attract and bed them is a bit…it’s just a bit not on. They can’t really give their full consent, even if they _think_ they are. Not even demons really do it that much, apart from incubi, and there’s not many of them now[6].’

‘But you do temptation, right?’ Newt asked Crowley. ‘So…sex is a part of that, surely? One of the seven deadly sins and all that.’

‘Demons don’t need to actually _engage_ with humans in order to tempt them. Most wouldn’t want to. You just…it’s like holding up a magnifying glass to the evil that’s already in their hearts. You don’t need to seduce a married man to get him to cheat on his wife, just… magnify the lust and curiosity that was already there, do a minor miracle to get a beautiful woman to wander in and let him make his own decision. But it is always _his_ decision, you see?’

‘Sort of.’ Anathema said, uneasily.

‘Still not really my thing.’ Crowley said, quickly. ‘I preferred to work on a big scale. Go into a club, increase the lust levels, watch it all go to shit. Much more entertaining than going out of my way to engineer something harmful.’

‘Right.’ Anathema said, looking slightly relieved. Aziraphale was looking at Crowley fondly.

‘Ni-ice…’ he said in a singsong voice. He was rewarded with a cashew to the face as well.

‘M not nice.’ Crowley muttered. ‘Just lazy.’ The conversation slipped into a comfortable silence.

‘Right.’ Said Newt brightly, taking the opportunity to move the conversation on. ‘Anyone for cluedo? No X-ray vision allowed, gents.’ 

[1] Human-rated. I.e. the ones that didn’t emit deafening screams, ooze with ichor or automatically splinter the souls of those who opened them.

[2] Courtesy, oddly enough, of Newt, whose talent for making things explode mercifully did not apply to ovens, although he let Anathema handle the microwave just in case.

[3] While of course they were both thrilled to be able to spend as much time together as they liked post-Armageddon’t, it had quickly become clear that for Crowley this meant ‘we're going to hang out all day every day’. Aziraphale, it turned out, was one of those people who needed their ‘space’ from time to time, which he supposed had never been tested before. They had managed this surprisingly well, however, as soon as they realised that being estranged from their respective head offices meant that they were actually free to _talk_ about their relationship for a change.

[4] Another reason Newt and Anathema were welcome was that, being in their early twenties, their knowledge of wine extended to ‘that one’s red and that one’s white’ so the angel could get away with not serving the expensive stuff.

[5] Rest assured, the mechanic who had tried to cheat Miss Crowley found himself waking up the next day in a skip in Wolverhampton with several penises drawn on his face in pink sharpie, while the garage in question had to suffer for months afterwards with all of their draining trays inconveniently leaping two feet to the right whenever anyone tried to remove an oil filter.

[6] Attempting to engage in sexual activity with humans in order to encourage madness came to be seen as a bit time and labour-intensive, so they’d all been seconded to other departments. It definitely livened things up in accounting.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is the one where the subject matter gets a little heavier, though it's still not graphic. Crowley and Aziraphale talk some more about their sexual histories, it becomes clear that Crowley is somehow one of the most socially responsible (if reckless) demons on the planet, and Aziraphale does what he does best (i.e. frets and then tries to make things better.) This chapter also confirms the general suspicion that Thaddeus Dowling is a bit of a dick.

A few hours after the two humans had gone, Crowley brought the topic up again.

‘So Angel. What about the specifics?’

‘Hmm?’ Aziraphale looked up from his book.

‘The sordid details. Your chequered sexual history.’

‘Oh, that. Not much to tell, dear.’ The angel replied, turning a page. ‘I just didn’t really fancy talking about it to Newt and Anathema, you know.’

‘Come off it. Humans fall for angels all the time, and you’re a principality, and a comparatively handsome one at that. Were you really never tempted to… _engage_ on those terms?’

‘I…did once. Babylon. It was a whore who I walked past every evening on my way home.’

‘Believe the PC term is ‘sex worker’ these days, Angel.’

‘Well. Whatever. She was sweet enough and it was early days so I’ll admit I’d never much thought about what she was doing for a living. She seemed quite taken with me, asked me in to sample her wares. I’d assumed she’d made some honey cakes or something. She offered me the night for free and, well she seemed very keen on the idea so I went along with it.’

‘Good of you to do her the favour.’ Crowley snickered. ‘And?’

‘Oh, pleasant enough. When one makes the effort it is possible to get some pleasure from it, I can see why the humans like it, bless them. But it was rather messy. I made sure _she_ enjoyed it, of course. She refused to take any payment but I might have done a few minor repair miracles on her house, kept an eye out for her, you know. She got married in the end, lovely young chap. Two children…you know I can’t for the life of me remember their names, how sad.’

‘I don’t think they mind the mess, you know.’ Crowley mused. ‘Reminds them of their mortality and fundamentally imperfect natures.’

‘Quite. Well since then I haven’t had much interest in trying it. Certainly some humans have tried to engage me in that way, but I always managed to distract them somehow.’ 

‘Never tempted to try it with the other types?’

‘Men? Well when I was a member of that club in Portland Place I had quite a few offers. It occurred to me that there might be some differences but honestly knowing how it was frowned upon at the time it seemed more trouble than it was worth. By that point I had settled into the shop anyway so I didn’t want to court too much negative attention.’

‘When were you-’

‘Late 19th. You were asleep… I suppose _we_ could give it a go.’ Aziraphale added casually, to Crowley’s surprise. ‘We wouldn’t have to worry about the other one not understanding what they were getting into, and we could change forms back and forth which might introduce some options. It could be fun.' It was suggested in much the same tone as one human might absent-mindedly suggest playing mini-golf to another if they found an advert in the local parish newsletter. Crowley considered the offer, frowning.

‘I’m not sure I want to, Angel. Honestly I sort of went off it all.’

‘Really?’

‘Sort of…bad associations, if you want to know the truth.’

‘I thought you said you didn’t like to engage personally?’

‘I still did, once or twice. Didn’t like it, for the same reasons you said, but sometimes I got bored and humans are warm and…yeah. It was never really my thing. But that’s not why I don’t want to try it now. It’s more…look, I’m going to tell you this and I don’t want you to…to react to it at all, because it’s honestly no harm done.’ Aziraphale set his book down and peered at Crowley over his unnecessary reading glasses.

‘What is it, Crowley?’

‘Well, you know how I said that I liked to ramp up the lust in a club or wherever and let the humans get on with it?’ a nod in response. ‘Well, usually it’s straightforward enough. They have lust in their hearts, you magnify it, they go off to sate it with whoever, and that’s that. If you get the feeling they’re going to be particularly vulnerable or dickish you might induce them to sober up a bit, or, I don’t know, forget what they were going to do and go for a kebab instead.’

‘That’s decent of you.’

‘Shut up. Anyway, sometimes…sometimes you do that, and then in the crowd you get the scent of…of something more evil than “I quite fancy a shag”. Something that’s…that’s not just looking to sate lust, but to cause harm while doing it. And I don’t mean in the kinky way. Looking for a victim rather than a partner.’

‘So, you let them go?’

‘No, never. I…it’s stupid, was never obligated to but…when I did those kinds of gigs, I used to get them to follow me. The evil ones. I’d make sure I was the one tempting them outside, so they wouldn’t latch on to some poor kid walking home alone. And then I’d…well I’d try and draw them off to a dark place and…’

‘You didn’t _kill_ them-’

‘Satan, Aziraphale, who do you think I am? No. I’d just show them my true form and frighten the living daylights out of them. If that didn’t work I’d bite them with my fangs, eject a little bit of venom to paralyse them for a while and leave a note on them for the police. Or sometime just…just take them to a place with CCTV and make sure there was enough on tape for them to get arrested.’

‘And did you…did they hurt you?’

‘Nah. Not properly. Only humans, innit?’ Crowley said, with a noise that didn’t _quite_ sound like a laugh. ‘I was never…never scared in the _proper_ sense. But in a way…it’s more sickening. Demons are evil but you know why, it’s in their nature. Bastards who like causing suffering, or at least don’t care enough to prevent it. It’s part of the job. But those humans…you remember Adam and Eve, and then you see these guys, and you have to wonder how they got so twisted up along the way. And they’re not working for Satan, they’re just…doing it. Just because they don’t care. Because they _enjoy_ it. Anyway when you associate sex with dark alleyways and people trying to assault you you tend to go off it. Put me off presenting as female as well, for a while.’ Aziraphale took off his glasses with a sigh.

‘I’m so sorry, dear boy. That’s _awful._ ’

‘Now, now. Don’t go making a thing of it. I’m fine, honestly, and it's not like I haven't seen worse over the centuries. It’s just…yeah. Not something I’m going to want to try. Sorry, Angel.’ 

‘No need to apologize. It was only a suggestion of something to pass the time. Although I promise if we _did_ try to experiment there wouldn’t be any dark alleyways.’

‘No candles either. I’ve gone off candles too.’ Crowley growled. Aziraphale nodded, although he couldn’t see the connection.[1]

‘Anyway that’s so brave and decent of you, to take that risk-’ Crowley growled again. ‘Sorry dear, but there’s really no way to spin it in a negative light.’ The demon considered this, sighed, and settled back into the corner of the sofa with a frown. ‘Was there…something else?’ Aziraphale asked hesitantly.

‘Oh nothing, it’s just got me thinking…there was another time more recently with…well with Thaddeus.’

‘ _Dowling?_ ’ Aziraphale stared at him. ‘ _Dowling_ assaulted you?’

‘Eh, probably less assaulted and more…tried it on even though I clearly wasn’t asking him to. Thing is, with enough of these experiences the distinction gets a bit blurry.’ Crowley laughed again, but it still wasn’t an entirely _happy_ laugh.

‘But he still…he still…that’s terrible, I’ll _kill_ hi-’ the words fell out of Aziraphale’s mouth and he covered it with his hands as if he could cram them back in, sending out tendrils of consciousness in all directions to make sure he hadn’t _actually_ sent a bolt of smiting energy towards the ambassador, wherever he was.[2]Crowley sat up quickly, eyes wide.

‘No, angel, don’t say things like that. Believe me I’ve already cursed him to crippling ball-ache any time he even _thinks_ about trying something like that again. And it was never…I don’t think he was trying to hurt me exactly, he just…thought he could get away with it, and that I’d let him because I didn’t have a choice.’

‘Still.’

‘I know. The thing is…I can’t for the life of me remember tempting him.’

‘You probably didn’t, dear. He just liked the form of your corporation.’[3]

‘I know. But it’s honestly been bugging me for years now. I go back over it and ask myself if I’d done it without thinking, just automatically thrown out a temptation and he’d caught it and-’

‘Wouldn’t matter.’ Aziraphale replied stoutly, breaking the train of thought. ‘Even if you _had_ , you said yourself the point of a temptation is only to bring out what was already in his heart and let _him_ make the decision. He chose wrong and is entirely to blame. It isn’t your fault.’ Crowley sighed and then smiled, genuinely this time.

‘Thanks.’

‘Any time. And I promise…I promise, it won’t happen again.’ Crowley shrugged.

‘Well I wasn’t planning on looking for it anyway. Thanks for the thought, but you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.’

‘You’re under the protection of a principality.’ Aziraphale replied, straightening up importantly.

‘You’re not going to use your “be not afraid” voice are you? I forgot my earplugs.’ Crowley quipped, and the angel deflated somewhat.

‘Perhaps I’m useless in a lot of areas.’ He admitted. ‘But I’m still a protector. Flaming sword optional. No human or demon shall ever touch you again without your permission. Now.’ The usually physically-undemonstrative angel sat beside Crowley on the sofa and opened his arms. ‘Please may I have your consent to hug you?’ Crowley burst out laughing.

‘Go for it, angel. I hope you’re not going to make an announcement every time you-’ he began, but as the angel’s strong arms closed around him he quietened, digging his fingers into the back of the dun jacket. After a moment’s hesitation he rested his head on the angel’s shoulder, sinking bonelessly into the loving[4] embrace. ‘Honestly angel. It’s nothing compared to what they do in Hell. Humans have been the least of my worries over the years.’

‘Doesn’t matter. Whether it’s humans being stupid and awful or demons being evil or, I don’t know, ducks being vaguely aggressive, you’re allowed to be hurt or upset by it, and it’s never your fault. Except for the ducks. You do tend to provoke them.’ Crowley chucked slightly, then yawned. ‘Do you need to sleep?’

‘Don’t really feel like going back to mine.’

‘That’s alright, you can have a nap here for a while. It’s been a long night.’ He stood, and Crowley acquiesced, stretching out on the sofa which was miraculously long enough for him now.

‘Thanks angel.’

‘Not to worry.’ In a rare burst of mischief the angel of the eastern gate made a show of peering out the window. ‘I’ve got the first watch.’ He whispered dramatically, which made Crowley laugh again.

‘Daft beggar. Alright. I promise I won’t be long.’

‘Promise I won’t be far.’ Aziraphale replied. Once Crowley was settled Aziraphale sat back in his chair with a frown.[5] He didn’t like the idea of Crowley being at risk or putting himself in risky situations, and was certain that it had affected Crowley more than he would ever let on. Of course a demon is rarely in any true _danger_ from a human, but being cornered in dark alleys is still never a fun experience. Humans could take _years_ to get over such encounters, and both he and Crowley were a little bit human these days. He glanced over his bookshelves. There was nothing in them new enough to concern itself with psychology or therapy, and Aziraphale had a sneaking suspicion that Crowley would not appreciate such attempts to help him anyway. And Crowley’s feelings were the important consideration here. If he was saying he was fine, if he was _coping_ as he normally did, was it really Aziraphale’s duty to pull him out into the light and dissect his fears? Perhaps all he could do was hug him, and keep promising him that he was safe, and make sure to avoid dark alleys. They had a lot of healing left to do, and years to do it in. 

‘Stop thinking so loud, Angel. I’m not an invalid.’ Crowley mumbled.

‘Sorry dear. I’ll stop. Just…I’m here, you know.’

‘So you said.’

‘I mean it. I…I wasn’t before. But that was before. I’m here now.’ Aziraphale said, floundering for the right words.

‘I know, Angel, I know.’ Crowley replied, more softly, his eyes still closed. ‘Maybe you should read a book. To take your mind off things.’ Aziraphale laughed softly.

‘Anyone would take _you_ for the guardian.’

‘Shurrup. Read something. Out loud, if it helps.’

‘Moby Dick?’

‘Sure. S’a perfect cure for insomnia. You’ll…you’ll be here when I wake up, yeah?’

‘Of course. Right here.’ Aziraphale replied, summoning his book with a flick of the wrist.

‘Oh and Angel?’

‘Mm?’

‘Before, when Newt called me your husband. You didn’t correct him.’ Aziraphale recognised that tone, boundless curiosity veiled by sleepy insouciance. He opened the book thoughtfully.

‘Neither did you. I suppose…well. It doesn’t matter what they call us, does it? They don’t have a word for what we are, so if ‘husband’ gives them a purchase on it, what’s the harm?’

‘S’pose. I prefer partner. Partner can mean all sorts of things, and it doesn’t have a gender. Covers all manner of sins.’

‘Yes, that’s true. Well if that’s the one you like I’ll use it too, dear, if it comes up.’

‘Alright. Go on, then.’ Crowley yawned, turning into the back of the sofa.

‘Ahem. Chapter one. Call me Ishmael…’ Crowley began to snore, and, as promised, Aziraphale continued to read through the night, until he woke up again.

[1] This is because there wasn’t one. The candles-in-the-bookshop thing was to do with an entirely different and equally traumatic situation that Crowley had lived through recently.

[2] As it was he _did_ send something out into the ether, but as a principality’s powers aren’t really designed for actively _smiting_ humans by the time it made it across the Atlantic it was less of a killing blow and more of a funny five minutes which gave the ambassador a stomach ache and a lingering sense of self-doubt.

[3] Said no rap song ever.

[4] Big L and small.

[5] It is a matter of no interest to anyone that his preferred chair in the bookshop faced exactly due east. However what is curious is that no matter where the angel stayed or supped, if there was an east-facing table or seat to be had he unconsciously chose it, and always felt oddly nervous when he did not. Just as one never forgets how to set a magic sword aflame, one never quite forgets which direction one is supposed to be facing when one wields it. 


End file.
